Malyshka
by elmira777
Summary: Voldemort decides that Hermione, being the brains of the Golden Trio must disappear. She finds herself in a small village in Albania, guarded by a rough Death Eater. Will she be able to escape and help her friends destroy the Horcruxes? Life will get difficult for a witch who's not used to manual labour and harsh conditions.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Don't own anything, blahblahblah.**

**Recently I've watched a couple of movies with Arben Bajraktaraj, who plays Antonin Dolohov in HP. In _Taken, Sex Traffic _and ****_Verso _he plays minor roles, but in my opinion he makes a perfect villain. Soooo my twisted mind came up with this. As for my other story, it will be updated next week, I won't abandon it. **

**Here's a little dictionary. I don't know Russian so forgive me if the translation is a complete rubbish.**

**'De'vachka' - 'little girl'**

**'Malyshka' - also 'little girl'**

**'Krasavitsa' - 'beauty, pretty woman'**

**'Chyort voz'mi!' - 'Damn it!'**

**I hope you'll enjoy this!**

* * *

The room was dark, lighted only by green flames in the fireplace. The Death Eaters were waiting patiently for their master, some of them excited at the prospect of seeing him, some clearly frightened. They still remembered the Muggle Studies professor - Charity Burbage, and how the snake had devoured her body in front of their eyes, just few days ago. Now the Dark Lord called up another meeting. They were going to discuss a backup plan, in case they wouldn't be able to capture Harry Potter on the 27th July, the day when the boy was going to be taken from his relatives by the Order.

After few minutes, the door had opened and a tall, thin figure stepped into the room. The man approached his followers and took a sit at the head of the table, his usual spot. He eyed closely every wizard and witch who was present, stripping them from their barriers, getting inside their heads so he could know all of their wants and fears. Many of them shuddered under his penetrating gaze.

Finally he spoke.

"My friends. As you are perfectly aware, Harry Potter's days are already numbered. I trust that no one will disappoint me, and the boy will be dead by the end of the summer. You know what awaits those who let me down."

He made a pause there and watched as his Death Eaters lowered their heads in fear.

"However," the Dark Lord continued, "One must be prepared for any possibility. If Harry Potter escapes by some miracle, we must have another plan at the ready." He then fell silent for a moment. Nagini slipped into the room, hissing softly.

"I've been gathering information about Harry Potter since the day I had returned to you; two years ago. Severus told me, that the boy is a true Gryffindor. Brave, loyal, foolhardy, and rather...idiotic. He loves to be in the spotlight and he loves to play a hero. He cares for his friends more than for his own life. He has no real skills, no real power. In fact, he owes his life to his companions, as I heard, he wouldn't survive a day if it wasn't for them. He has two closest friends - a blood-traitor Weasley and a mudblood Granger." said Lord Voldemort.

"I assure you, my Lord, that Weasley boy is even more thick-headed than Potter," whispered Lucius Malfoy, his disdain for the Weasley family stronger than the fear of his Master. The whole table shook with laughter. Voldemort smirked.

"So I've been told. It leaves us Miss Granger. She's very clever, a rare thing among such filth. She has been helping Potter since their first year at Hogwarts, he would be dead long ago without her. If our plan crumbles and Potter escapes, he must be stripped from her help. She must disappear."

The giant snake slithered around the back of his chair, darting out its' tongue threateningly. One could feel a wave of excitement rushing through the group of dark wizards. Bellatrix giggled maniacally.

Lord Voldemort was pleased.

"I don't want her to be dead, though," he said. "She can be of some use in the future. Harry Potter would do anything to get her back safe and sound. Imagine his face, when he learns that we've broken her, tainted her. Maybe even turned her against him. We'll struck where he'll be hurt the most."

"Now," he continued after a moment of silence, "We must think of a place where we'll hide the girl. Any ideas?"

"Maybe here?" Yaxley spoke, "It's well guarded manor, a mouse won't escape its' walls."

"Yes, that's good place, but I was thinking about somewhere else..." Voldemort said, stroking gently Nagini's head. "As you are well aware, I've been traveling around the world during my life and saw many beautiful and dangerous places. African deserts, Hungarian ancient catacombs... But there's one, particular country that I'm very fond of. Albanian forests are vast...very vast, and very magnificent. And very dangerous too. Hardly inhabited. The villages in that part of country are small, the language is hard to learn. There's no way that a young girl, without a wand could escape from such a place."

"She can't go alone," said Snape. "She won't manage without magic and we need her alive."

"Of course, Severus is right. Someone will be with her constantly, guarding her. One person will suffice. Any volunteers?" asked the Dark Lord.

There was no reply. It was one thing torturing the mudblood or killing her, even keeping her as a toy for some time, but to babysit her for Merlin knows how long in some wilderness? No one really wanted to do that. Lord Voldemort was less than happy.

"Fine," he whispered. "We'll just have to find a volunteer, then."

And with those words he flicked his wand and conjured a stone bowl. Another flick of his wand and the bowl filled itself with small pieces of parchment.

"This bowl contains the names of every Death Eater present in this room. Now let's see..."

He put his long, pale fingers in the vessel and pulled out one parchment. Everyone held their breath.

Voldemort looked at them with blank expression before announcing:

"Dolohov."

The atmosphere changed immediately. Death Eaters were relieved and happy that it wasn't them. Some of them sniggered, some of them looked at Dolohov with sympathy. Yaxley patted him on the back reassuringly.

Dolohov just bowed his head slightly, a small smirk on his pale face.

* * *

"You know, we're not far from the Leaky Cauldron here, it's only in Charing Cross-" Ron began, but Hermione cut him short.

"Ron, we can't!"

"Not to stay there, but to find out what's going on!" he insisted.

"We know what's going on! Voldemort's taken over the Ministry, what else do we need to know?"

"Okay, okay, it was just an idea! Blimey..."

Hermione rubbed her forehead. She tried her best not to panic. They had to think clearly. One mistake and the Death Eaters will catch them. The girl would rather not think about what could happen next if they did.

She glanced at the pair of workmen who had just entered the caf. One of them was large, with blonde hair and the other wasn't too tall. He had black, slightly curly hair and stubble. For a second, Hermione thought she saw him somewhere before, but she shrugged off the idea quickly. There were more important things to do and ponder on about.

"I say we find a quiet place to Disapparate and head for the countryside. Once we're there, we could send a message to the Order," she whispered.

"Can you do that talking Patronus thing, then?" asked Ron.

"I've been practicing and I think so," replied Hermione, hoping that the spell will work. She had small troubles with conjuring such a complicated messenger.

"Well, as long as it doesn't get them into trouble, though they might've been arrested already. God, that's revolting," Ron added after one sip of the foamy, grayish coffee. Hermione shook her head at his rudeness. She liked Ron very much, maybe too much, but he could be a boor sometimes.

They decided to pay for the coffee and leave. Hermione reached to her bag, searching for money and then all hell broke loose.

In a second she was thrown on the bench by Ron and the place was filled with jinxes and bangs. At first she had no idea what was going on, until she saw the blonde workman unconscious on the floor. The other one had a wand drawn out and was firing curse after curse at Ron and Harry, who was now clearly visible as his Cloak slipped off him.

The Death Eaters.

Without another thought the girl pointed her wand at the remaining Death Eater and cried: "Petrificus Totalus!"

He dodged the spell, scowled at her, pointed the wand at Ron and made a slashing motion with it. A purple light emerged and Hermione's eyes widened in horror. She remembered that light, that jinx.

Swiftly she casted a Shielding Charm between Ron and the Death Eater who had injured her so gravely in her fifth year. Dolohov was his name, if she remembered correctly. The fatal spell rebounded from the Shield and smashed the window. Hermione's bag fell to the ground with a loud thud. She had no time to retrieve it as the Death Eater casted a Stunning Spell at her. She shielded herself from it with difficulty, as Dolohov was throwing spell after spell at her.

After a minute the only ones able to fight were Harry, Hermione and Dolohov. Ron was tied up by Dolohov's curse and the waitress was stunned on the floor. Hermione saw that the Death Eater was growing tired and she felt relief. They were outnumbering him and Harry was very skilled when it came to duelling, the older man had no chance.

Just when she had relaxed a little and casted another jinx at Dolohov which he rebounded quickly, something unexpected had happened.

There was a swirl of black smoke and the dark wizard disappeared.

"What?" Harry cried, completely disoriented. Hermione was shocked too. And frightened. Soon, she'd found out that she had every right to be afraid.

A pair of strong hands gripped her from behind. In a second she had a wand pressed to her throat. She felt the man's hot breath on her ear as he rasped:

"Hold still _de'vachka_, or I'll be forced to hurt you."

"Let her go!" cried Harry, panic and anger in his voice. The Death Eater only chuckled.

"Now, boy. Consider yourself lucky to leave this place alive this time. I'll be taking this little thing with me, you and the ginger may go" he tightened his grip on Hermione who whimpered in fear. Then he whispered some Latin words and the black smoke covered the other Death Eater. He was gone in a second, probably taken to some safe place. The dark haired wizard quickly summoned Hermione's wand and slid it into his pocket. She was completely defenceless.

"Don't do anything stupid kid," Dolohov said, seeing that Harry was about to cast a jinx at him. "You don't want her to be injured, don't you?"

Harry lowered his wand in defeat. Ron struggled on the floor, the ropes in his mouth preventing him from speaking, but one could see that he was furious and terrified at the same time.

"Please, don't hurt them," Hermione whispered quietly.

"Don't fret, _krasavitsa_, it's you that I want," he whispered back in her ear and she shivered in fear at his suggestive remark. He did it on purpose of course, because, when he felt her tremble, he chuckled even more.

"Get away from her!" Harry demanded. "It's me that Voldemort wants, take me and leave her alone!"

Hermione felt Dolohov shaking his head.

"You're really dumb Potter, aren't you? The Dark Lord wants you of course, but I'm here for her. She's far more prettier than you."

Ron struggled harder on the floor, face red with fury. The girl sobbed, the panic overwhelming her as she slowly realised that she was lost. There was nothing she or her friends could do.

"Soon, there'll be plenty of Death Eaters here, I suggest you hurry up, boys, if you want to survive this night," Dolohov smirked, before taking a twirl and disappearing with the witch in his arms.

The last thing Hermione heard was Harry and Ron's cry of terror as everything went black.

* * *

With a loud thud, she fell on the wet grass. It was completely dark. Somewhere behind her she heard an angry voice mumbling something incoherent.

"_Chyort voz'mi! _I've landed too far again. Couldn't focus properly when you were struggling like crazy," with those words the owner of the voice grabbed Hermione by the neck and got her up.

She blinked few times to adjust to her surroundings. They where on some provincial road, traversing a forest. The girl could distinguish shapes of wooden cottages standing by the road. There was a light in some of the windows. A barking dog hobbled past them. A man rode a bike and judging from the way the vehicle was doing slalom, he was completely tanked up.

"Help!" Hermione cried desperately. "Help me please! I'm kidnapped, help!"

The drunk man just looked at her and yelled something in a foreign language. Dolohov responded and the man laughed. He went on his way. An old woman looked out from the window, but did nothing when Dolohov grasped Hermione's arm and dragged her further down the road. She looked behind, tears in her eyes, shocked that no one reacted to her cries of help. Even if they didn't understand English, they could clearly see that she wasn't with the Death Eater on her own will, couldn't they?

"That man," Dolohov spoke with a slight smirk, "told me that my woman needs to learn her place. I told him that we've argued and you were trying to escape. I brought you back and I'll teach you a lesson when we're home. As you could see, he just laughed. All those people," he motioned with his hand towards the cottages "are on my side. They don't understand you, never seen an English. In their eyes, you're my woman and you should be obedient. Don't expect any help. Now walk."

Hermione started to cry and fight. He just held her more tightly.

"Now, now," he soothed sarcastically. "Don't cry _malyshka_. I'm sure that we'll get along pretty well."

Then he half dragged her towards the dark forest. The hobbling dog barked some more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for all of the alerts and reviews, it means a lot! Here we have another chapter, thanks to my beta who had agreed to help me with this story. You're great!**

**As always, here's some translations:**

**'babushka' - 'granny, grandmother'**

**'Toshka' - it's a diminutive of Russian male name 'Anton'/'Antonin'**

**'malyshka' - 'little girl'**

* * *

Hermione struggled with her captor, desperately trying to kick him, but he only chuckled in response.

"Come on," he said, "I'm bloody tired, and I want to sleep. If you won't behave, I'll stun you."

The witch whimpered helplessly. Finally, she allowed him to lead her down the path, thinking of all terrible things that could happen to her from his hands.

Soon they approached a wooden cottage with a small garden, kennel, barn and along with a stable. Hermione could hear a horse neighing and a dog barking madly. Dolohov opened the gate of fence and steered the girl towards the front door. There was a light in one window. Suddenly, the witch felt a heavy weight on her stomach as some big, furry creature jumped on her. She took a step back and gripped the front of Death Eater's robes. The animal barked loudly until Dolohov shouted:

"Boris, enough!"

The dog stopped its barking immediately, wagged its tail, lowered its head and came closer to the man. He patted the dog's head and motioned the kennel with his hand.

"Go to sleep," he ordered and the dog went away obediently.

"Antonin!" came a woman's voice. "You insolent boy, where the hell have you been?!"

Hermione looked at the front door and saw an older woman. She was quite short and chubby. Her black hair was braided in a french plait. She wore a simple blue dress which reached her calves and flowery apron.

"_Babushka_," Dolohov said with a small smile and bent to kiss the woman's hand. She looked at him sternly, before noticing Hermione.

"So you've brought her, eh? Despite your old grandmother protests, huh?" she took a closer look at the girl. "Merlin's beard, she's freezing! Why didn't you Apparate in the garden? Come child, before you catch a cold."

And with those words she entered the cottage. Hermione felt Dolohov's hand on her back, urging her to move. She obeyed reluctantly. The hallway was dark. They followed the woman to the kitchen. Hermione had never seen such a kitchen in her life - there was a cook stove with a kettle placed on it, a fat, grey cat was sleeping on top of the tiled stove and some dried herbs were hanging from the ceiling, filling the room with nice smell. The table looked rackety and ancient, but still appeared to belong there; the heart of the home.

Dolohov sat the girl on a chair and excused himself to the bathroom. Hermione looked at the old lady, who was now stirring something in a pot. She seemed to be good-natured despite her strictness. She reminded Hermione of Mrs. Weasley, the way she scolded Dolohov. The girl doubted she could help her, being grandmother of a Death Eater, but she had to try at least.

"Help me," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. "He kidnapped me, please, help me! I don't know what he's-"

"Shhh," the woman silenced her. She didn't smile nor gave any sign of sympathy as she sat down next to the girl. She spoke in a bitter whisper.

"I know why you're here and that you don't want any of this. He told me everything. I don't support the Dark Lord," she added, seeing Hermione's terrified look. "But Antonin is my only living relative. My son died, serving the Dark Lord, and regrettably my grandson took after him. It nearly broke my heart when he had been imprisoned in Azkaban. I've already outlived my child, I don't want to outlive my grandchild. The Dark Lord gave him an order to keep you here. If you escape, Antonin will be punished. I won't let that happen. I'm sorry."

Hermione sobbed. She was lost. Of course, the old lady would be protecting her family, not some strange person. The woman went back to the old-fashioned cook stove and stirred the contents of the pot again.

"He won't hurt you," she said, without looking at the girl. "You must listen to him and obey. You must listen to me, too," she added, glancing back at Hermione. "I won't let him treat you too bad, don't worry. He's hot-tempered, just like his father and his grandfather, but he respects me. Antonin!" she called, "Come quickly, the supper is ready!"

She took a wand from the pocket of her apron and flicked it once. The cupboard opened and two soup plates flew from it towards the table.

"I'm not hungry," Hermione said with trembling voice.

"Nonsense," the old lady answered, filling the plates with a stew. "If I tell you to eat, you eat. Look at her!" she turned to the man who had just entered the kitchen. "She's so skinny! I don't know what those western girls think, it's not healthy to be so thin. How will she bear children?"

Hermione nearly choked on her stew. Children? She was far too young for that!

'_Remember where you are_,' she reprimanded herself in her mind. '_It looks like a small village, in some foreign country. The customs may be different here._'

Her hands still shook, but she was quite relieved when the older witch assured her that no harm will come to her. Still, Dolohov was a different story.

"She'll manage, _babushka_. In England, there are many girls who look like her and they have children without any problems," he said with this small smirk that gave Hermione creeps. The look he gave her while saying those words made the girl want to run for her life. The Death Eater ate his supper silently, then stood up and went to the window. He opened it, sat on the window sill and began to smoke a cigarette. Hermione felt like there was some big obstacle in her throat, preventing her from swallowing. "Babushka" was observing her though, so she slowly ate her portion. When she finished, the old lady led her to the bathroom.

"Take a quick shower and wash your teeth. Don't try to escape, Antonin is tired and when he's tired, he tends to be easily angered. In the bathroom cabinet, you'll find everything that you need."

Then, she left the girl alone. Hermione sank to the floor, sobbing quietly. She thought of her friends. Have they managed to escape? She hoped they were alright. She wondered why she was still alive. Maybe Dolohov wanted to torture her, to extract information about Harry? But his grandmother said "He won't hurt you." She knew that she shouldn't trust this woman, but something told her that she didn't mean any harm to her. She protected her grandson. There was nothing wrong in that.

'_Too bad her grandson is a deranged murderer_,' Hermione thought bitterly. She shivered at the memory of the older man's smirk. '_I hope he's not a rapist too_,' she thought before taking off her dirty clothes.

The girl took a shower and found a white nightgown in the cabinet. It was too small to belong to Dolohov's grandmother, so the girl presumed it was prepared for her. When she was ready, she exited the bathroom. Dolohov was waiting for her.

"Now, go to my room. I'll be there in ten minutes."

Hermione felt very uncomfortable standing barefoot in front of him, dressed only in the nightgown which reached her knees. She wished it was longer and bigger, to cover her entirely from his gaze. The man entered the bathroom and the old lady took Hermione's arm, leading her away.

"Here's my room," she motioned one door, "And here's Antonin's. You'll sleep there."

"What?!" the girl exclaimed.

"You heard me. He needs to keep an eye on you all the time."

"B-but," Hermione stuttered. "I could sleep with you, on the floor, I won't escape, I promise! Just not with him..."

The old lady shook her head. "I don't like it either, because you're not wedded and it's inappropriate, but he's as stubborn as a mule. It looks like you'll be here for a long time, so get used to it. Goodnight!"

Then, she urged the girl to step inside and closed the door behind her. Hermione stood there dumbfounded. She felt panic rise in her chest again this evening. She felt relatively safe with the old lady, but to be alone with a man who nearly killed her in her fifth year...She shuddered at the thought. The room was dark, so Hermione switched the light on.

There was a brown sofa bed, standing by the wall. The wall, to Hermione's astonishment had a carpet placed on it. There was a table, a wardrobe and some cabinets, everything made from dark wood. It looked, well, different. Old-fashioned and different. Hermione was raised in an English terraced house and she rarely visited countryside with her parents. She presumed that Dolohov's family must come from Russia. The language he used - she thought it was Russian and his surname sounded like a Russian too. But where they were right now? Hermione could swear that it wasn't Russia, the words that the drunk man on the bicycle had shouted earlier seemed to be different from those few words that Dolohov spoke.

Suddenly the door opened and the man came in. He wore only a pair of white boxer shorts. Hermione blushed furiously and looked away. She sat on the carpet on the floor, intending to sleep there. Dolohov began to convert the sofa. He made the bed and looked at the girl expectantly.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" he said, motioning at the bed. Hermione gave him an indignant look and said coldly:

"I prefer to sleep on the floor, thank you."

Dolohov only smiled, before grabbing her by the arm and throwing her with one swift movement on the bed. She tried to get up, but he pushed her back.

"I'm tired, _malyshka_, and I'm not in the mood for playing. Be good and sleep."

With those words, he turned the light off and slid under the covers beside Hermione. The girl moved as close to the carpet on the wall as she could, trying to avoid the touch of the Death Eater, but the bed wasn't too big and she couldn't escape him, no matter how hard she tried. She lied there, eyes wide opened, feeling the heat from the man's body on her back, trying not to fall asleep with him in the same room. She wondered what would Ron say if he saw her in the same bed with a man who killed his uncles. At the thought of Ron, Hermione felt tears stirring in her eyes again. She blinked them away, not wanting to cry in front of her enemy. Oh, how much she wished that it was Ron who lied beside her right now, not some crazy Death Eater.

She regretted that she hadn't confessed her feelings to him. Maybe she won't have a chance ever again. Ron was pretty ignorant when it came to feelings and he probably hadn't realised the obvious. The girl nearly snorted. During their sixth year, she made quite clear the fact that she liked him more than a friend and the boy seemed to like her that way too. He was just terrible at showing it. Ron and his both cute and annoying goofiness. She hoped that both he and Harry were alright and that they haven't done anything foolish, like trying to find her and come to her rescue. They had more important task right now.

Hermione listened to her captor's breathing, wondering if he was asleep. Soon, he was snoring lightly, and Hermione was truly exhausted herself. She felt him stir in his sleep, his leg and side touching hers. The window was opened, and the chirp of a cricket could be heard. The girl's eyes began to close despite her internal protests and soon she was sound asleep.

* * *

She was woken up by the cock's crowing. The first thing she realised was the fact that she was terribly cold. The source of the heat that warmed her during the night had disappeared. She rubbed her eyes and looked at the window. Dolohov was sitting there, fully dressed, smoking a cigarette. He breathed the smoke through his nose and looked at the girl. She looked away. There was something in his grey eyes that reminded her of a wolf. The small smirk that constantly played on his lips made her blush and she hated it. He was silent, but Hermione could tell that he was still staring at her.

'_What a horrible man_,' she thought. '_And rude at that_.'

But she was still too afraid to express her opinion. The man once again drew on a cigarette, breathing the smoke in the direction of opened window.

'_At least he has some decency not to choke me to death with this horrible thing_,' thought Hermione, still avoiding his gaze.

"In the wardrobe you'll find some clothes. Get dressed and come to the kitchen," he said and put out the tab-end. He looked incredibly bored, which angered Hermione even more. As soon as he was out of the room, she threw a pillow in the direction of door.

Nonetheless, she understood perfectly that she had to do what she has been told. She opened the wardrobe and picked a simple flowery A-line dress, which she found both pretty and comfortable. When she exited the room, she nearly jumped out of her skin as something furry chafed against her legs. The fat, grey cat purred softly, staring at her with its ice-blue eyes. It was very beautiful, Hermione admitted. She loved cats, and this one reminded her of her own pet - Crookshanks. She missed him terribly.

"You're very pretty, you know that?" she told the creature. It mewed once, still staring at her intently. She shook her head, smiling and went to the kitchen.

The old lady and her grandson were sitting at the table. Judging from the smell, they were sipping coffee from porcelain mugs, eating scrambled eggs and bread. Her portion was already placed on the table. She carefully approached both of them, sat down and began to eat. Dolohov said nothing, gazing with vacant expression at the table. He was probably deep in thoughts. "Babushka," on the other hand seemed to be quite lively and cheerful.

"After breakfast, I'm going to show you everything in the house. You must wear an apron, because we'll be working in the kitchen today. I have some preserves to do, I'll be needing your help."

"Okay," Hermione said and smiled at the older lady. She preferred working with her than spending any more time than necessary with Dolohov.

"You're going to London, Toshka?" asked the lady and for a second Hermione had no clue who was she addressing.

"Yes. I think, I'll be home by the evening, but I can't promise anything," Dolohov said, finishing his coffee. Then, he turned to Hermione.

"Now, I've heard that you're clever girl, so I hope that you'll know what's best for you and won't try to escape. Believe me, no one will help you, you don't have a wand and walking alone, without a man around the village and forest can be dangerous. Stay here."

His voice was stern and left no place for argument. "Babushka" patted him on the arm and said:

"Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on your girl. Be sure to eat something warm!" she added, when he stood up and bent down to kiss her hand. "You're so pale. You'll waste away if you keep going like this!"

Dolohov just gave her a little smile and looked back at Hermione. To her horror and disgust, he bent down and pecked her on the cheek. She made a small noise of protest, but he only chuckled, clearly amused and walked out of the kitchen, leaving her furious and blushing.

"Babushka" acted like nothing abnormal had happened, instead murmured something about "an insolent and inconsiderate boy."

* * *

Saying that Hermione was tired, would be an understatement. She was purely exhausted. She had no idea how the old lady could have so much energy in her. She had shown the girl the stable and barn, a hen-house and the garden. It appeared that they had a cornfield too, but "Babushka" kept quiet about how the hell were they able to tend to it. Dolohov was a Death Eater, surely he had no time for such things, and the old lady wouldn't manage on her own, despite her strength. Hermione suspected that she used magic to work on that cornfield and fool Muggles so they wouldn't know the truth. The woman hardly used magic around the household, preferring to do everything with her own hands.

"Magic is good and helpful, but it doesn't mean I must use it constantly and get lazy. As long as I have my strength, I'll do my work on my own," she said.

Hermione admired her diligence, but being not used to such hard work she soon found herself exhausted. "Babushka" kept cheering her on.

"It's because you're so skinny and pale," she said. "Don't worry, I'll feed you well, you'll see that you'll be more healthy and get more curves."

Hermione blushed at her words, but smiled nonetheless. The lady was very explicit in her words, but kind. The girl shuddered every time she passed Boris, who was barking madly, tied to his kennel. She pitied the animal, but her fear of him prevented her from letting him free. He would probably chase the hens around, maybe even strangle one. Hermione couldn't let that happen.

From time to time she glanced at the gate, thinking of some way she could escape. There was no way in hell she'd stay with Dolohov, Harry and Ron needed her. For now, though, she decided that she'll be good and obedient. It was the beginning of her captivity, Dolohov was most vigilant right now. But soon, he would let his guard down a little, seeing that she was doing everything she was told. Hermione smirked a little. Most Death Eaters were impulsive and dumb. She was after all the brightest witch of her generation. She'd surely outwit one of them.

Oh, how wrong she was.


	3. Chapter 3

**Here we have another chapter of the story. I took the information about wizard life span from Harry Potter wikipedia. Dolohov's story is of course completely AU. **

**A little reminder:**

**'babushka' - granny, grandmother**

**'Toshka' - a diminutive of Russian name 'Anton'/'Antonin'**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

A few days had passed and Dolohov didn't return. His grandmother didn't seem to be bothered, though, she acted like it was perfectly normal. Hermione wondered where he had gone and what was he doing. She hoped against all hope that torturing or murdering her friends wasn't the case.

During Dolohov's absence she turned his room over, searching for anything that could emasculate the Death Eaters and help the Order. Some information, some powerful objects, books that could help finding the Horcruxes. She did it very carefully and precisely, making sure that she left everything exactly the way she had found it in the first place.

It was risky, the older wizard could return any moment. She shuddered at the thought what would he do to her if he had caught her. The girl managed to find a few very dark and rare books. She flipped through old pages and discovered many nasty hexes and potions. It looked like Dolohov wasn't an amateur when it came to the Dark Arts. Hermione scowled in disgust. She didn't accomplish her task, there was nothing in his room that could be useful for her. Her wand was nowhere in sight too.

"Hermione!" called the old lady. "Come, we'll be doing some weeding. Put on the gloves!"

The girl sighed. Another thing making her research difficult was 'babushka.' She made sure that the girl wasn't bored - in fact, she rarely let her sit and do nothing. There was always something to do around the house.

"I'm coming!" the girl responded and went to the kitchen, to put the gloves on. The garden wasn't big. There were some asters, marigolds, dahlias and an old man's beard, ascending up a wooden grate. It was really beautiful and charming, all those plants growing up here and there in no particular order. The shutters of the windows were opened. The old lady placed flower pots on nearly every window sill. There, she had planted herbs such as thyme or basil .

The summer, though late, was very warm. It didn't bother Hermione. The house was placed near the woods, the trees hiding it from the heat. Both women were working all afternoon, chatting about nearly everything. Hermione despite herself came to like the old lady, she was funny and quite bold.

"A woman needs to tend to herself. Most girls count on her husbands, waiting for them to make them happy, but, remember, my dear - no man will make you happy, if you're not happy on your own," the old lady said, hoeing the soil.

The front door were always wide opened when the weather was good - a lace curtain was placed in the doorway to prevent flies from getting inside. Boris was laying relaxed in his kennel, looking delusively cute with his big, dark eyes and brown, fluffy coat.

Around six o'clock, the girl and the old lady went to the kitchen. They sat down at the old table and began to drink tea.

"Tomorrow we'll bake something good. Do you know any recipes? I must admit that I'm curious about your English cuisine," 'babushka' spoke.

Hermione blushed a little.

"I'm afraid I don't know how to cook, ma'am," she said shyly. Back in home, it was her mother who was preparing every meal and at Hogwarts, the house-elves were doing it. Hermione only knew how to make a sandwich and boil the eggs. It was awful, admitting that there was something she wasn't good at and it became even worse, when she saw the old lady's shocked face.

"What? You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm afraid that it's true," Hermione assured, crestfallen and ashamed. The older witch muttered some few Russian words in disbelief and said to Hermione:

"A girl your age can't prepare a decent meal? Merlin's beard, then what are they teaching you at that school of yours?"

"Not cooking," the girl admitted. 'Babushka' scowled in disapproval.

"That's very likely for Dumbledore. Teach you great history and complicated potions which you'll never use, but nothing that could come in handy in normal life."

"You know Dumbledore?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Of course I know the old dodger! I met him years ago, back in Russia. But that's not the case right now," she waved her hand dismissively. Hermione was eager to know more, but kept silent. Maybe she could ask 'babushka' about it later. It was an interesting piece of information and she didn't want to press the other witch too hard, she had to act very carefully in order to gather as much useful knowledge as she possibly could.

"Right now, it's important for you to learn cooking. You'll never find a husband if you don't know how to feed him," the old lady stated, finishing her tea. Hermione was about to protest that she had absolutely no intention nor need of finding a husband, but the other witch was already pulling out a giant, old book from the cupboard. She placed it on the table.

"Here are the recipes my mother and I wrote. Some of them are borrowed from our neighbours. You can pick one cake and I'll teach you how to do it."

The tone old lady used left no presence for an argument. Hermione carefully flipped the pages of the book, admiring silently the accuracy of the recipes. Everything was explained in detail. After a minute she picked a plum cake. 'Babushka' approved of her choice and went to the pantry, to check if they had the necessary amount of fruits.

The next day they ate breakfast and began to work. Hermione's face was soon covered in flour and her hands hurt from kneading the dough, but she had great time. The old lady joked with her and showed her how to do everything. The girl was a fast learner and when the cake was ready, the older woman praised her with a smile.

"You see? It's not that hard. There's nothing better for a man's bad mood than something sweet to eat and to hold," she winked at Hermione mischievously, patting the younger witch on the bottom. The girl said nothing, too shocked and indignant to speak. 'Babushka' started to hum some song and left her with her mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"Don't stand there like that! We must prepare something for a dinner. Come, I'll teach you how to make a borscht," the old lady called from the pantry.

_'A what?'_ thought Hermione, furrowing her brows. Soon, 'babushka' emerged from the pantry, carrying a basket full of beetroots. "Borscht" turned out to be quite tasty soup, made from beetroots and potatoes. Hermione watched the older lady intently, trying to memorize every step. By the end of the day she was exhausted as always. 'Babushka' had led her to an orchard after dinner, which was situated not far behind the house and they spent there the rest of the day. The baskets full of apples, pears and plums were not as heavy as they normally would be, for 'babushka' charmed them discreetly, watching out for any Muggles. Still, big baskets were difficult to carry and certainly not as light as a feather. If any Muggle passed by and saw that they carried the fruits without any effort, it would be suspicious. Both women had to take at least ten tours to transport everything to the cottage.

Taking it all into consideration it was no wonder that Hermione fell asleep almost the very second her head touched the pillow. She could still feel the taste of the plum cake they had made earlier that day and hot chocolate that 'babushka' prepared for the supper.

"It's not healthy to eat cake for supper, but we're alone so we can have some fun," she had said. The cake tasted wonderfully after all afternoon of work, even better than those made by house-elves; back at Hogwarts.

Hermione woke during the night only once, to find the fat, grey cat chafing against her hands and purring softly.

"Go away," she murmured, snuggling deeper into the covers. It was nice to have the bed only for herself. She was grateful that Dolohov was away, and she hoped that he would do that more often. It would give her greater chance of escape. She must get to Harry and Ron as quickly as possible.

The covers and pillows smelled very nice, she thought to herself sleepily, they were so soft and cozy. Hermione could sense some men's perfumes, tobacco and mint. She soon fell asleep again though, so she hadn't any time to register that she had just considered a Death Eaters smell being nice.

* * *

When the old lady woke her up at six o'clock the next day, Hermione was very tempted to just tell her to leave her alone. She knew she couldn't though, she had to be on good terms with Dolohov's grandmother. It was the only person that could protect her in some way from the awful man. The weather was windy and quite cold that day. After breakfast, Hermione's cooking lessons began again. This time, 'babushka' was telling her how to make a jam. The girl managed to burn two frying pans of the fruit mixture before she'd done it right, but her companion refused to let her give up.

"You'll be trying for as long as it'll be necessary," she told her while cleaning the jars. "Do you think that I've managed to make a perfect jam on a first try?"

By the end of the day they had fifty jars of plum and pear jam ready. The fire was cracking inside the cooking stove and a cat was sleeping on the window sill. 'Babushka' went to the cupboard and took out a bottle of vodka. She poured herself a shot glass and intended to do the same for Hermione, but the girl politely refused.

"I'm not used to drinking," she said.

So, 'babushka' sat on a chair, put her legs on a small, wooden stool, downed the booze and began a story.

"I remember that time, when my husband had been courting me. He was such a boor!" she laughed heartily, before continuing the rest of the tale.

"My family was pure blooded and old, one of the oldest families in Russia. But we were poor and my husband's family had money. If I remember correctly, his mother was a Muggle, but it didn't matter to my father or me. He was strong and his farm was quite big, so he was more than capable of providing for me and our children."

She took an apple from the plate on the table and began to peel it with small knife. Hermione listened intently, deeply interested. She had always loved it when her late grandfather had been telling her stories about his youth.

"My dowry wasn't too big, one pig and a couple of linens, but Nikolay didn't seem to mind. I was pretty and there weren't many unmarried girls back then in our village, so he picked me. He came to our house nearly every evening, drank with my father and brought me flowers. If you could see his face when he did this! Every time, he wouldn't even look at me, nor say anything. To tell the truth, I didn't like him in the slightest. But I knew my duty and I was an obedient daughter. We've got married and I moved into his household."

The old lady made a pause to eat a slice of the apple.

"He was stubborn and proud man. He never spoke much. But I grew to love him. We had three sons. The eldest got himself killed during October Revolution. The second one died from the scarlet fever when he was nine. Nikolay died soon after him, leaving me with the youngest - Ivan."

She downed another shot of vodka. Her hands trembled a little at the memory of her sons and husband.

"Ivan was much like his father," she continued, smiling sadly. "Proud, stubborn, and silent. He was quite sensitive too. We lived happily, until he met that girl. She was a Muggle and he completely lost his head for her. He got her pregnant and married her as soon as he had found out."

Here, Hermione's eyes widened. Dolohov's mother was a Muggle? So it made him a half-blood. She remembered then Hagrid's words, when she was in second year at Hogwarts and Malfoy called her a Mudblood for the first time. Of course, wizards had to marry Muggles, they would become extinct if they didn't do it. Hermione was sure that most of the Death Eaters were half-bloods - there wasn't enough pure-blooded families to gather so many of them. Still, that new information surprised her.

"She was pretty," 'babushka' spoke, "and seemed to be very shy and obedient. As soon as she gave birth to Antonin, everything had changed, though. She started to drink, not one week passed without her being completely wasted. She didn't care about Antonin in the slightest. Ivan tried to talk to her many times, and finally she told him that she had never loved him and gave herself to him only for money. We had a big farm and house and she came from a poor family. She told him that she couldn't stand being near him anymore, though and that she loves someone else. Ivan gave her a beating that evening. I've tried to stop him, but he was stronger than me. I was raised in belief that husband had every right to punish his wife for disobedience, so I didn't try anything else. I took crying Antonin and locked myself in my room."

The old lady sighed shakily.

"The next day she was gone. She took only few things with her. I thought that she'd want to take Toshka with her, but no. He was still in his bed. He was around 4 years old, then. After that it was Ivan's turn to drink. He would often come home, completely tanked up and muttering something about "filthy Muggle whores." One day, though, he returned completely changed. He took Toshka in his arms and lifted him high in the air, he was overjoyed. The next day, that man payed us a visit. He was tall, pale, dark-haired. Most beautiful green eyes that I had ever seen, too bad he destroyed himself completely. My boy lost his head for him and his cause."

Hermione held her breath. Voldemort?

"By the end of that week, Ivan was gone. He went to England with his new leader. He sent a few letters during these years, before he got killed by the Aurors. Toshka was nine then. Ivan left me instructions to send the boy to Durmstrang, so I did it. As soon as Toshka finished his school, he left Russia and went to England, to replace his father as a Death Eater. He is just as stubborn as his ancestors, there was nothing I said that would stop him. I left my mother country and moved here. I couldn't bear to live in my old house any more. And when Toshka got himself locked up in Azkaban..."

The old lady made a pause and trembled slightly. One tear escaped her eyes. Hermione had sudden urge to take her old, wrinkled hand in her own, to comfort her somehow.

"He got a life sentence. I was sure that I'll never see him again. But now he's free," the old lady smiled, "or as free as he can get, serving that man."

"I don't know who or what that wizard has, to pull everyone to him in such manner. My son and grandson were very loyal to him. Ivan, I can understand - he had a grievance against Muggles, but Toshka... I don't really know if this is because of his mother. He never speaks about her, doesn't seem to care if she's alive or not. He's just so...indifferent. Maybe he just follows him because he really thinks that Muggles are inferior to us."

She sighed. Hermione listened to her every word intently. It had always interested her, just how works the mind of a criminal, what was the reason he or she turned to evil. Surely, most Death Eaters were just psychopaths, but to know the cause of their insanity...

The cat stretched its body on the window sill and sat motionlessly, staring at the women with its big, blue eyes. Its furry tail was wagging lazily from side to side. The animal seemed very regal, as it was the real owner of the place. 'Babushka' looked at it and sighed again.

"This straggler came to us three years ago, when Toshka was still in prison. It was winter and I took pity of him - he was very skinny. Now he grew fat and doesn't even want to hunt anymore!" she laughed, stroking the cat's head tenderly. It allowed her to do so, never moving from its place.

"What's his name?" asked Hermione. She loved cats.

"Lyov. It means lion."

The said "lion" yawned broadly and closed his eyes, purring softly. The girl smiled. She already liked the pet very much. The old lady went to close the front door, humming quietly. Hermione looked after her with admiration. To lose nearly everyone dear in her life and still manage to keep this energy and cheerfulness... She wondered for a moment just how old 'babushka' is. Her son died around 1917, so she must be at least 90 years old, yet she doesn't look like it in the slightest. But, Dumbledore was very old too, probably around 100 years old and it didn't seem like his life was coming to an end, if it wasn't for Snape, he would probably live much longer. Wizards have a little bit different life span then Muggles, she remembered from her lessons. They age slower and can live even to 140 years old. 'Babushka' seemed to be a lot younger than that. Her black hair were just interspersed with silver strands of hair and she still had much energy within her. Maybe even more than many young people nowadays.

"Come, it's time to go to bed. Tomorrow we have a lot to do," the old lady said coming back to the kitchen and Hermione bid her goodnight, before proceeding to the bathroom. Just before she fell asleep, she thought about everything her guardian told her. It was good to know something about her captor, to better understand his character. Maybe it could even help her to find a way to escape. She must be very alert ant watch out for any sign of weakness. Then she can flee from this place and join her friends. The girl tried not to think about the kind, old lady and the consequences of her escape. She just hoped that Voldemort would punish only Dolohov, not her too.

_'But she cares for him a lot. It would be like putting a knife through her heart,'_ thought Hermione and moaned into the pillow. It felt terrible to risk another's life, but she had no choice. Harry and Ron needed her desperately and their lives were most important to her right now.

* * *

The next day went by peacefully. Both women occupied themselves with cooking and doing chores. Hermione learned a lot during the previous week, but she was exhausted too. Still, with every day she seemed to have a little bit more of strength and to tell the truth she liked the older witch so much that she didn't mind the hard work. 'Babushka' was very helpful and would often tell her stories about her youth. Or about Dolohov.

"He never took a wife, that boy. Never had much time for it, considering that he's always busy with his Dark Lord. And I have no one to help me here! His grandfather's name will die out with him, I'm afraid. Such a frivolous man, that Toshka is."

Hermione was silent, as she kept frying the fruits for another set of plum jam. It was actually pretty amusing, to hear this small woman rant about one of the most dangerous Death Eaters.

"Oh, the girls from the village adore him, of course," the lady continued and Hermione nearly knocked the frying pan from the cooking stove. _They adore him?! Are they nuts?!_ She stared at her companion with wide eyes.

"They giggle whenever he walks by and I'm pretty sure he shagged at least five of them..."

Now Hermione's mouth was wide opened too. The nerve of that man! Here he goes, following Voldemort around like a puppy, condemning all Muggles and Muggleborns, but when it suits him, oh, well, he just forgets about his precious master and has some fun with his Muggle neighbours!

'Babushka' didn't seem to notice Hermione's indignant expression, deeply occupied with cleaning the jars for the jam.

"And he'll be 37 years old this winter, I don't know what he thinks... All of this will waste away with no heir to inherit it. All my hard work!" she exclaimed.

The girl kept silent. She seriously pitied any woman who would have the bad luck and become Dolohov's wife. What did those girls see in him, by the way? He was certainly much older than them, unshaved, with these cold, grey eyes... Hermione had never seen eyes like that. They were darker than those of Draco Malfoy and reminded her of a wolf. A wolf watching its prey. She shuddered at the memory of these eyes on her. The girl never liked that eye colour - she preferred brown eyes. They were warm and merry, just like Ron's were, whenever he told her and Harry a joke... Viktor's eyes were brown too. Oh, she would give everything to see just one of her friends right now. But she also knew that brooding won't help her in the slightest and that she has to stay focused, to get away from here as soon as possible.

Soon, the sky outside began to grow darker and both women had finished their work. Hermione started to prepare tea and the old lady was making some sandwiches, when they heard dog's barking.

A few seconds later a man stepped into the kitchen, a small scowl on his face. It disappeared quickly though, when he bent down to kiss his grandmother's hand. Despite herself, Hermione thought that it was a nice gesture, to show such respect towards the woman who in fact had brought him up.

Dolohov turned his attention to Hermione, then and all positive thoughts fled away in a blink of an eye. He smirked a little and regarded her with this cold, predatory stare of his. The girl turned her head away from him, intending to ignore his presence completely, but he wouldn't let her go that easily. He kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear:

"I hope that you weren't missing me too badly at nights."

_'Damn it,'_ thought Hermione and scowled in disgust, while he only chuckled before taking a sandwich.


	4. Chapter 4

**I've had so much fun writing this one! I hope you'll like it, as always let me know what you think and if there's something that you'd change. The words that Dolohov uses here are explained in the first chapter, so I think that there's no need to repeat them. Enjoy!**

* * *

It was a little cold in the room, as the window had been opened during the entire night. Hermione could hear the chirping of morning birds and crowing of a cock. She shivered slightly. Her dreams weren't too good - the faces of Ron and Harry plagued her constantly, calling for her to help. She was pressed tightly to the carpet on the wall, to avoid Dolohov's touch as much as she could. Unfortunately, the bed wasn't big enough for this and she was condemned to the constant feeling of his side touching hers. The girl cursed him at least thousand times throughout the night.

Luckily for her, he wasn't very talkative the previous day and left her in peace. The looks he was giving her, though, were setting her teeth on edge. Hermione quickly closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep, so she wouldn't be forced to bear it. It seemed to work well, as Dolohov just smoked his cigarette, went to bathroom and fell asleep as soon as he got in the bed.

Now, he was snoring slightly which infuriated Hermione to no end. She considered kicking him, but she knew better than waking a sleeping, tired Death Eater.

So she lied there, waiting for sleep to take her again. It was too early to get up - the sky was still grey. It looked like it would be raining today, the room was filled with chilling cold now. Hermione trembled harder. Wasn't he cold? Or maybe he was just used to coldness, as his cell in Azkaban hadn't any sort of heating for sure. The girl couldn't even imagine spending a week in such a place, to say nothing of spending there ten years, or the rest of one's life.

As she pondered over it, snuggling further into the covers and the carpet (it was better thing than a cold wall), an arm wrapped itself around her waist. She nearly squealed in fear and tried to escape him, but it was no use in such a small space. Seconds later, she had a man's body pressed tightly into her back, his arms hugging her from behind. The Death Eater was still sleeping soundly, judging from the way his chest was moving evenly with every breath.

_'Oh crap, crap, crap, crap!'_ the girl thought, trying to wriggle herself from his grasp without waking him, but soon she had to surrender. She lied there stiffly, waiting for him to wake up and go away.

Minutes passed and nothing of that sort was happening. Hermione yawned involuntarily. She had to admit that she felt much warmer now. Dolohov was strong and the heat of his body was lulling her slowly back to sleep. Her eyes began to close and she felt more and more relaxed, despite herself...until she felt _that._

Something hard was pressed against her low back. At first she had no idea what it was, she lied still for a moment, wondering what could that be. It couldn't be a wand, because she was sure that it would be impossible to put it into boxer shorts...

"Aaaaah!" Hermione yelped and jumped out of the bed like she was burnt. She landed flat on her bottom staring at the older wizard with wide eyes. He sat up instantly, a real wand in his hand.

"What?" Dolohov said hoarsely, his eyes unfocused from sleep. He noticed Hermione on the floor and asked without lowering his wand:

"What the hell are you doing, girl?"

She looked at him, tears of fear in her eyes and said nothing. He sighed exasperatedly and mussed his black hair.

"Come to sleep, _malyshka_, it's still early."

"No." was her firm answer. The Death Eater gave her an annoyed look. She knew that she was walking on a thin ice, but she wouldn't ever come back to sleep with this...man.

"I said: come," he repeated, voice calm, but his eyes held a silent threat.

"I want to sleep on the floor," Hermione insisted stubbornly. Dolohov had enough. In one swift movement he jumped out of the bed, grabbed her by the waist and threw back on the covers. She backed away quickly and curled herself in a ball as far from his as possible.

"What's the matter with you?" he said, now really pissed off. He had this angry scowl on his face, the same scowl Hermione had seen at the Department of Mysteries. She sobbed quietly.

"I don't want to sleep with you. Please," she whimpered, truly frightened. Dolohov regarded her silently, still angry, before grunting:

"I won't hurt you, you silly girl. At least not now, so you can stop being a pain in the ass and go back to sleep."

Hermione didn't move an inch, staring at him like a deer in the headlights, refusing to obey. She was sure that the Death Eater will curse her any second, but there was no way in hell she'll let him touch her again. The girl could see the sheer fury boiling inside the man, but she was angry too and she wasn't going to surrender so easily.

"I don't want to be touched by you. And I'll believe in your guarantee when Hell freezes over."

Dolohov smirked cruelly. He quickly grabbed Hermione's hands and held her wrists in an iron grip while speaking softly:

"Ah, I see that my lioness has a lot of fire inside. Good: I like challenge. You don't like being touched by me, right? But why, pray tell, are you throwing a fit so bloody early? Couldn't you wait 'till I'm awake?"

When she didn't respond he shook her slightly. "Well? What made you jump from the bed so suddenly?" the man repeated, his voice delusively calm and quiet.

Hermione refused to tell him the truth, but her eyes flicked involuntarily down, to his underwear. She blushed furiously when she saw that this... _thing _was still erect. Doesn't he have at least a little bit sense of decency to cover himself? Once again during her lifetime the witch decided that men are just gross. She turned her head away quickly, but not quickly enough. Dolohov noticed her look and glanced down himself. It took him a minute to put two and two together in his still drowsy mind, but soon realisation dawned on his face and the anger in his eyes was replaced by amusement. He let go of the girl's hands and chuckled.

Hermione nearly seethed in fury, while he just laughed at her openly. She felt a sudden urge to grab a pillow and throw it straight at his ugly face, but her life instinct got better of her and she settled with glaring at him with a scowl. This made him chuckle even more. After a moment he calmed down, though and said with a smirk:

"Don't tell me _malyshka_ that you're afraid of a morning wood! It's no big deal. You may go back to sleep."

There was no response. Hermione still glared at the man, her cheeks red from anger and embarrassment. To her fear and disgust, Dolohov raised his hand and stroked her hair.

"You're very pretty when you're angry, you know that, little one? Now go back to sleep, before I change my mind and do something to you that you probably won't like in the slightest."

His eyes roamed quickly all of her body and she shivered under his gaze. Again she felt tears of fear welling in her eyes. Would he dare to rape her?

Dolohov noticed her discomfort and brushed away a tear that fell from her eye. He murmured in a deep voice:

"What's wrong? Surely, you know that this happens to most men in the mornings. One of your boyfriends must had it too. Were you jumping like crazy out of their beds when they were sleeping?"

Hermione now started to cry openly. She shook and sobbed hard, which made Dolohov frown in confusion.

"What's wrong?" he asked again, clearly not knowing what to do to calm his charge down. Hermione had enough. She felt embarrassed and humiliated.

"If you must know, I don't know what happens to most men in the mornings! How can I know? It's not like I...I mean..." she stuttered and looked away. That jerk didn't need to know that she was still innocent in that circumstance; he'd probably laugh even harder. Unfortunately, Dolohov wasn't as stupid as Hermione wanted to believe. He quickly caught up her meaning and stared at her like she had suddenly grew another pair of hands.

In any other situation it would be very funny, really. His eyes went wide and for the first time the girl saw genuine surprise written on his face. His mouth was slightly opened.

"You're kidding me." he stated, still watching her as if she was crazy. Hermione glared at him.

"You're a virgin?" the older man wonder aloud in disbelief. He seemed to be completely shocked by such a possibility.

"And even if I am, then what?!" Hermione snapped at him, even angrier than before. She had forgotten all about her fear. How dare he ask such personal questions? And what the hell is wrong with being a virgin? It's not like she was 30 years old or something. In wizard's world being eighteen years old she was barely considered as an adult. If looks could kill, Dolohov would be dead right there and then. He didn't seem to pay attention, though, he was too busy with expressing his utter amazement.

"Merlin's beard," he breathed, rubbing his unshaved face. "You really are a virgin. And Potter...or that ginger...they have never tried to make a move on you?"

"No! We're just friends!" Hermione exclaimed.

"But...but they were following you everywhere like puppies...Snape told us that you spent nearly every minute with them. And they have never tried to shag you?"

Suddenly he started to laugh. It was not his usual chuckle, no, this time he laughed openly and uncontrollably. Hermione hated him more than ever and for a second, she seriously considered strangling him. He soon calmed down and seeing her furious expression he said:

"I'm not laughing at you, _malyshka_. It's just...I knew that Potter and his pal were dumb, but this is just beyond my comprehension, really." he sighed and shook his head._  
_

"To have _this_," here he motioned with his hand at Hermione's flushed face, "for a couple of years nearby and not even try to get into your pants..." Suddenly he frowned. "Are you sure they're not gay?" he asked, his eyes flickering with suspicion.

Hermione's hair became more bushy than usual and if one listened closely, he could hear her teeth grinding. She took a breath to calm herself and spoke in her typical know-it-all tone.

"Well, if it's so hard for you to believe that boys and girls can be close friends without any undertones then I feel really sorry for you. Harry and Ron, as opposed to others." here she gave him a pointed look, "think with their brains - not trousers."

Dolohov wasn't bothered by her insult in the slightest. Instead, he was just watching her, clearly amused.

"No, malyshka, they're just dumb. You obviously don't have any experience with men, otherwise you wouldn't be saying all of this. Let me enlighten you."

He made a sudden move and in a second Hermione found herself in his arms, pressed tightly to his bare chest. She tried to fight him, but his arms were much stronger than she was.

"Shhhh, calm down, little one. I'm not going to hurt you.", Dolohov purred into her hair, pulling her even closer. It was the first time a grown up man held her so close. Of course, Viktor had held her hand and kissed her shyly a couple of times, but he never held her this way. Hermione could feel the steady beating of the Death Eater's heart - yes, he had a heart - and the thin, black hair on his chest were tickling her cheek slightly.

"You see, men are simple. Our primal instincts take the better of us very often and if we have a chance we strive for satisfying our needs. If a boy spends a lot of his time with a pretty girl, it's only natural that he'll feel attracted to her. And if he feels attracted, the only right thing to do is to let her know about it and try to make her his."

His voice was calm and deep, rumbling inside his chest. Hermione had no idea what he was getting at and to tell the truth, she didn't like it in the slightest. Dolohov's words made her remember all these times when she cried in her dormitory, sad and angry at Ron for never seeing the girl in her. They spent so much time together and he never thought about her that way. And when he had finally noticed, he acted like a complete jerk, ruining the first night she felt like a true girl, during their fourth year at the Yule Ball. Hermione still felt hurt, despite years passing by. Even now, when Ron supposedly liked her, he was often jealous, mean, and rarely understood her feelings. He still hasn't made a move to ask her to be his girlfriend, nor kissed her and yet whenever someone else tried to pick her up he was being so rude that she was just sick of him.

Ron was simply a dog in the manger - he wouldn't tell her that he likes her, but he wouldn't also let anyone else near her. It was very tiring and Hermione preferred to be alone than suffer his constant jabs and pips. She was never particularly popular among boys, most of them considered her as a bushy haired book-worm. Some of them thought that she and Harry were a couple, some never seemed to notice her existence. There were very few who made an indication that they liked her as a girl, but unfortunately, Hermione didn't return their feelings. At the memory of McLaggen and his crass attempts to woo her she felt sick. The only boy, besides Ron of course, that she fancied was Viktor Krum, but the distance between them quickly killed their affection and they settled with being friends.

Dolohov was now stroking Hermione's hair absent-mindedly as she sat stiffly in his arms feeling very embarrassed and awkward. The girl waited patiently for him to let her go, knowing that any attempt to push him away would be futile. He seemed to be deep in thoughts and for a moment Hermione thought that he had forgotten about her presence completely. Soon enough he released her, though and slid back under the covers.

"Well, now that we explained some things to each other, we can go and sleep. I expect that you won't freak out next time I accidentally touch you. My penis isn't dangerous, no need to be afraid, _malyshka_."

The smile he gave her indicated that in fact, she had every right to be afraid, but she didn't want to argue right now. No need to anger him further, now that he had calmed down.

Quickly, Hermione slid under the covers too, and pressed herself as usually to the wall. Dolohov chuckled, but didnt say anything and soon she heard him snoring again. The daybreak was cold and his body was radiating warmth, especially in the places when his side touched her back. The girl tried very hard to deny the fact that it felt quite nice and repeated in her mind that he was a Death Eater, an evil and evidently perverse man, much older than she was. She tried to remember the face of Ron and his smile, but it didn't work this time. She hated to admit it, but when she thought about it, Dolohov might have been right. It was really weird that both boys never saw her as a girl. Was she unattractive? Or maybe they didn't like her character. Was she acting like a boy?

Soon, Hermione fell asleep again and this time she didn't dream about her friends.

She dreamt about a wolf.

* * *

The rest of the week Hermione spent avoiding her captor as much as she could. She was still embarrassed by the fact that he knew something about her personal life, and she was afraid that he'd use it against her. Nothing of that sort had happened, though. He teased her and infuriated her to no end, but never mentioned anything about her innocence nor her relationships with boys.

'Babushka' seemed to be very content with the fact that her beloved grandson was now home. He was doing most of the harder work which left both women much more well-rested. Hermione had to admit that she was positively surprised; she had never expected a Death Eater helping around the household. Strangely, whenever she thought about daily life of a Death Eater she often pictured them as pompous jerks abusing their servants like Lucius Malfoy, or dirty criminals living practically in a sewer like Greyback. Dolohov turned out to be neither of them. He looked grim and he could do with a small shave, but other than that he was clean and acted pretty normal. Hermione suspected that he was a terrible sexist, though. Dolohov and his grandmother appeared to have very conservative views when it came to men and women.

"A woman must obey her man, that's how it has always been, and that's how it always will be." 'Babushka' would often say.

"But what if the man beats her? What if he treats her badly?" asked Hermione indignantly.

"Well, she has the right to return to her parent's house. Or flee elsewhere," the old lady told her. Seeing that Hermione was still shocked, she added:

"This is how we've been living for centuries. It's not easy to change mentality of people who rarely have the chance to see something else in their life. They don't want to change anything. I know that many men are abusive and cruel, and these men should be punished by the law. But if you have a good husband, then I don't know why you shouldn't be good to him in return and obey him."

Here, she lowered her voice, as if she didn't want someone (Dolohov probably) to overhear them.

"You have to be clever, child. Men like to rule, they like to think that they're our masters. Let them think that. Be gentle and smile, please him, give him advice... In the end it will be _you _who makes most of the decisions in the house, you'll be in charge, while he'll still think that he's your lord. And then, believe me, when you're as old as I am you'll find out that in fact you are in charge in the house. Everyone will listen to you, no matter if you're a woman or a man. That's how women learned to survive."

Hermione didn't say anything to that. She couldn't agree with the older witch. She was raised in entirely different environment, she had always despised those who discriminated against women. But here, life was distinct. The girl often felt like she had traveled in time and found herself in different age. How long will she be forced to stay there? Sometimes she just had enough of work and chores. She missed her books, her school, her friends...But she still couldn't find a way to escape. Even when Dolohov wasn't home, 'babushka' constantly watched over Hermione. Now that she thought of it, even when she was apparently alone, she felt like someone's been watching her the entire time. The grey, fat cat Lyov usually followed her and observed her from the distance. Hermione didn't know if she was becoming paranoid, but she suspected that 'babuska' ordered him to watch her every step. It was weird and unnerving, but there was nothing the girl could to about it at the moment.

* * *

Few days had passed and the weather was still nice. August was slowly coming to an end and Hermione was still nowhere near finding out the way to escape. No fireplace through Floo powder, no owl to send a message. Nothing. And one day, her chances of fleeing lessened even more.

Dolohov disappeared early in the morning that day. The girl got used to the fact that he was often coming and going as he pleased, without a word of explanation so she didn't see anything wrong in it. Quite the opposite, she was relieved and content that she didn't have to suffer his presence. She spent the entire day helping 'babushka' with chores, cooking and gardening. All in all, she was in quite good mood, until Dolohov returned in the evening.

They ate supper in silence and went to their bedrooms. Hermione hated that part of a day - it was still too early to go to sleep, but she had to already stay in Dolohov's room, being bored to death. Usually he paid no attention to her and left her alone there, returning late and going to sleep immediately. This time, though, he sat down on the bed and motioned her to sit beside him. The girl reluctantly obeyed, but kept a safe distance between them. The wizard, seeing her behaviour sighed exasperatedly and moved closer.

"Stop your fidgeting, _krasavitsa_. I have a small gift for you."

With those words he gave her a small, blue box. At first, Hermione watched it, distrustful and surprised. Dolohov took her hand and placed the box on it.

"Hurry up and open it. It's not a scorpion," he smirked and she scowled at him. Resisting the urge to punch him in the face, the girl opened the package. It contained a silver bracelet, inwrought with small leaves. Not waiting for Hermione's response, Dolohov quickly placed the jewellery on her right hand, closing the clasp. It fitted her perfectly and was very comfortable; she felt like she wasn't wearing it at all.

"It's very solid, nothing will destroy it. It's charmed, I'm the only person that can take it off," stated Dolohov and Hermione felt a rush of fear and anger in her gut. She desperately pulled at the bracelet, but it wouldn't get off no matter what she did. She was trapped. Staring with wide eyes at her captor, she cursed her stupidity. How could she let him place something around her wrist? It was clear that it was no simple gift! Why a Death Eater would give presents to his victim? It was too late though. The wizard observed her calmly.

"It'll prevent you from apparating. If by some chance you'd be able to escape, you won't run very far. And I know those forests very well; I'd catch you quickly. So think twice before you try something funny."

Hermione had tears in her eyes. She hated him, more than everything in her life, more than anyone in her life. Even Malfoy had never managed to infuriate her so much. In a moment she lashed out at the older man, beating him with her fists as hard as she could. She no longer cared about the fact that he had a wand, that he was stronger. She wanted to hurt him, kill him if possible.

Soon, though, he had caught her wrists and held her in place. She wriggled and struggled, but it was no use. The wizard chuckled, making Hermione even angrier than before. Her hair was disheveled and her face was flushed from emotion.

"Now, calm down, _malyshka_. The bracelet is necessary for you, if you are to stay here. Surely you'd want to walk around more freely, wouldn't you? With this, I have a guarantee that you won't go far," he said calmly, smiling a little.

He had held her tightly, until she stopped fighting him and then let her go. He got up and walked to the window, in order to smoke, as usual. Hermione watched him with hatred. Now, she was truly lost, her hope evaporating like the smoke of the cigarette in Dolohov's hands.


	5. Chapter 5

**Here we have another chap! If you have any suggestions - feel free to let me know. All of you, readers and reviewers - you're great! Thanks to you I have motivation to write more :)**

**All Russian words that I used here were explained in earlier chapters, so I think there's no need to repeat them. As for the story of Alyonushka and Ivanushka, it's a Russian folk tale, I hope that I've remembered it correctly. It's not ended, though, maybe there'll be a chance to write the second part of the tale too...Anyway, enjoy! **

* * *

Hermione kept running through the woods as fast as she could. She was panting heavily, body sweating, with every limb aching from the effort. The leaf litter was cracking under her feet as she hurried quickly, adrenaline and panic rushing through her veins.

Just a little longer, a little longer and she would be safe; outside the forest. She felt that her legs were starting to slowly give up, but she forced them to cooperate nonetheless. The place was quite dark, the forest so thick that the witch could barely see the sun shining through the branches.

Behind her, she could hear her pursuer chasing her mercilessly. The sound of paws hitting the ground echoed through the woods. Hermione could feel the cold eyes of the animal glued to her back, but she couldn't waste any time to glance over her shoulder. She ran and ran, but to her terror the forest didn't seem to come to an end. On the contrary, she felt like the trees were on her enemy's side, blocking her way and making the chase much more difficult.

_'Please, someone help me,'_ she thought frantically. Panic overcame her and she let out a scream, not caring any more that her pursuer will hear her. He sees her anyway, she was sure of it.

Suddenly, Hermione slipped on a wet moss as she was running down a small hill. She fell to the ground and rolled all the way down, fallen leaves and small twigs tangling themselves into her unruly hair. Finally she stopped and tried to get up, but her body refused to obey. She whimpered and started to cry, and when she heard soft footsteps of the animal approaching, the girl tried to crawl away from it, but to no avail. She could now hear the breathing of her pursuer and the sound of it sniffing the air. She turned around and saw him.

The cold, dark grey eyes of a predator watched her intensely. The wolf stood calmly, clearly confident that his prey wouldn't manage to run anymore. He came closer to the witch, so close that she could smell the scent of him. He lowered his head and nuzzled her neck with his nose. Hermione froze in the spot, panicked, but the animal didn't look like it was going to harm her. Nevertheless, the girl kept shivering from terror, waiting for the strong jaws to tighten around her throat, ending her right then and there. The wolf sensed her fear, but made no move to kill her.

It was cold, very cold and Hermione could feel her hands almost freezing. Soon, the snow started to fall, the crystals melting in wolf's thick fur. The grey eyes were still transfixing her and she could not look away, no matter how hard she tried.

Those eyes were the last thing she saw, before she woke up with a gasp.

It took her a few seconds to regain her composure and realize that she was tucked under the covers, in bed, safe inside the house. There was no wolf watching her, but she could still feel a stare on her back. Slowly, feeling once again the similar fear to the one she had felt in her dream, Hermione turned around.

The dark grey eyes still watched her, only now they belonged to a human.

Dolohov was staring at her, his pale face bearing the same, dangerous expression as usually. By now Hermione was used to this face and didn't find it so terrifying as in the beginning, but she still felt anxious when he looked at her that way.

"A bad dream?" he murmured, eyes still boring into hers. Hermione nodded hesitantly and backed into the wall immediately when she felt him moving closer. Dolohov didn't pay attention; he just pulled her body into his, shushing her when she started to struggle. Soon, the witch was trapped between the chest of a Death Eater and the carpet on the wall. She still could feel the traces of fear that she experienced during her dream, but now she was warm, relatively safe. The physical contact made her blush and she hated every second of it, but she was too tired to put up a fight. Dolohov was the most stubborn man she had ever encountered in her life, even more stubborn than Ron. Hermione wanted to sleep again, to dream about Hogwarts, her friends, all of those happy years she had lived with them. No wolves.

The Death Eater closed his eyes and began to speak.

"Once upon a time, there was a young, pretty girl called Alyonushka, who lived alone with her little brother, Ivanushka."

Hermione furrowed her brows in confusion. Was he telling her a bed-time story? The idea was ridiculous, but the witch had already came to terms with the fact that Dolohov was a strange man. She kept silent, listening to his deep voice, and feeling the steady sound of his heart beating.

"They loved each other very deeply, for they had no one else in the world," Dolohov continued. "One day, as they were walking down a long road from their field, they came upon a cow's hoof, filled with water. Ivanushka felt that he was very thirsty, so he asked his sister: 'May I drink out of the hoof, Alyonushka?'

'No, little brother, if you drink this water you'll turn into a calf.' his sister said and the boy obeyed. They walked and walked, sun was shining brightly, making them both very hot and tired. Soon, they came upon a horse hoof, filled with water. Again Ivanushka asked his sister if he could drink the water, but she told him: 'No, little brother. If you drink this water you'll turn into a foal. Be patient, soon we'll be home.'

They walked and the sun was still high up in the sky, making them feel terribly thirsty and exhausted. Ivanushka was a small boy and the heat was unbearable to him. After a while they came upon a goat's hoof, filled with water. By that time, Ivanushka was so thirsty, that he couldn't even think straight. He asked his sister if he could drink the water, and she once again forbid him to do so, saying that he'll turn into a kid. This time, though, Ivanushka didn't listen. He drank the water and to his sister's horror turned into a small goat immediately.

The girl sat down and burst into tears. Her little brother was skipping around, not aware of his sister's grief. It was then, when a young Merchant came into view, riding from the nearby town.

'Why are you crying, pretty maid?' he asked, seeing Alyonushka.

She explained to him her problem and he fell silent for a while, deep in thought.

'You're very beautiful. Come with me, I'll give you everything that I have and you'll never have to cry. The little goat can live with us.'

Alyonushka agreed after a moment of consideration, and the three of them lived happily for some time."

Hermione felt like she was woken up from a dream; the sudden silence made her frown. Dolohov's voice had been lulling her slowly to sleep, the story new to her ears. Now, the girl looked questioningly at the man.

His eyes were closed and for a second, Hermione thought he was asleep. She asked silently:

"And then?"

The grey eyes flashed in the darkness.

"Hmmm?"

Hermione blushed slightly. She felt awkward that she was being curious about the end of a story for children, but she has never heard that one before and she liked tales of any sort.

"What happened then? You said that they lived happily for some time. But what happened after that time?"

She could more sense than see Dolohov's lips turning up into his usual small smile.

"Maybe I'll tell you some day, if you behave," he murmured, twirling a strand of her hair in his fingers. Hermione scowled and attempted to turn her back on him, but the Death Eater only chuckled and pulled her even closer.

"Now you can sleep, _malyshka_. No bad dreams," he whispered.

The girl sighed involuntarily, but hadn't tried to get away from him anymore. To tell the truth, she was too tired to care about the proximity of her enemy's body. The story made her forget about the wolf and the fear. Slowly, her eyes began to close and she drifted off to sleep.

Just before Hermione lost conciousness, she barely registered Dolohov's arm closing around her waist and the scent of his shower gel hitting her nostrils when her face came near his neck.

After that, there was nothing.

* * *

Hermione sat at the table, munching on her toast, trying her best to avoid Dolohov's eyes. Despite his civil behaviour last night, she still hated him. The bracelet on her wrist reminded her of the man's vile nature and in her mind she kept plotting against him and his master. Some day, the bastard will let his guard down and she would finally be free of him.

Right now, though, she must keep her head low and not raise any suspicion. The witch didn't know how to escape, so she had to wait.

Dolohov was sipping a cup of strong, black coffee. Hermione wondered how the hell it was possible that his heart hadn't stopped after taking so much caffeine at once. Probably because that heart was just as black as the coffee. With a small scowl on her face, she observed him as he stood up and went to the window, to smoke. That was his breakfast - a cigarette and a coffee. How one could be healthy with such eating habits?

Babushka obviously thought so too, because she exclaimed:

"Are you not going to eat anything normal?!"

"I'm not hungry yet."

"If I tell you that you're hungry, then you are. Now sit down, boy, and eat properly."

Dolohov sighed and put down his cigarette. Hermione still couldn't get used to the fact that the old lady was capable of controlling (to some extent) this wretch. Merlin's beard, how she hated him, she thought, watching him return to his chair and take a toast. Everything about him infuriated her; his cigarettes, his stupid smirks, his stubble... It made him look like a hardened criminal he was. And to think that there were some women who actually wanted to sleep with him! The girl shuddered at the very thought. It was enough that she was forced to bear his touch at night, she didn't need anything more from him, thank you very much.

"Any problems?" the most annoying voice woke Hermione from her musing. She glared at the man. Couldn't he leave her alone just for one second?

"No." she answered shortly, turning her attention back to her breakfast.

"Good," Dolohov replied with a smirk. "We'll go get some groceries today."

Hermione's neck nearly snapped, she turned her head to him that fast. Her eyes were wide as galleons.

"We're going to a shop? Together?" she asked in disbelief. Dolohov finished his toast and stood up.

"Yes, but if you don't hurry up, I'll go without you."

There was no need to repeat this to her. Hermione got up quickly and went to the bathroom to wash her teeth, Dolohov following her like a ghost. He had the nerve to enter the bathroom with her, but she didn't care. She was going outside - a chance to escape.

The wizard washed his teeth and then stood in the door frame, observing his young charge doing her toilette.

"You can leave, you know? I'm not going to escape through the sink." the girl told him, clearly irritated by his presence. Seriously, do these people even know what privacy is?

The Death Eater just kept smirking, as if she was the most amusing thing in the world.

_'A funny mudblood, huh?'_ she thought bitterly.

"I'm not going to risk it, _krasavitsa_," Dolohov said, not moving an inch.

With a frown, the girl decided to just ignore him and keep quiet. '_Don't let him provoke you_,' she reprimanded herself in her head. Dolohov was observing her closely all the time and it made her feel terribly awkward, but she had no other choice. Going to the shop with him could be her only chance to escape. They'd be going on foot, so she has to be quick and run fast towards the thickest forest. He'll have some trouble finding her there.

After couple of minutes, Hermione was ready to go. Dolohov led her outside and there she saw something unexpected, something that ruined her whole plan of escaping during the trip to a shop.

A car.

It certainly wasn't a new one, but seemed to be trim. The girl had never seen it around the place, so she presumed that Dolohov must have brought it while she was still sleeping this morning. She looked at him questioningly.

"You think that I'll be carrying the bags all the way here from the town?" he snorted in response, before opening the doors for her. She stood completely still, quickly calculating the other ways she could use to flee.

"Well? What are you waiting for, girl?" the man asked, slowly losing his patience. Hermione nearly rolled her eyes. She had never met someone so hot tempered as Dolohov. Obediently, she got in the vehicle and fastened her belt, like the good girl she was.

_'Oh, how much I hate you, you stupid jerk,'_ that thought occupied her mind mostly during the journey to the town. She could not jump out of the car - she'd probably kill herself. In the town, she could not run - there'll be many people, by the things she had seen in the village, they'll be on Dolohov's side. She could start to cry and tell someone that she's kidnapped, but let's face the truth - there was a small chance that anyone would understand English.

"What country is this?" Hermione spoke after some minutes of silence. There was no response.

"You can tell me, you know," she tried again. "Sooner or later I'll know. It won't help me in escape, don't worry."

Dolohov glanced at her, before replying in a gruff tone:

"Albania."

"Oh," was all that the young witch had to say. How could she not suspect this sooner? Voldemort spent years in this country and probably considered it to be a perfect hiding spot for his hostage. And he was right. Vast forests, patriarchal culture, foreign and difficult language - all those things were against Hermione. By the time the car reached the town, the girl was near tears.

The shop wasn't big. Dolohov was quick and organised when it came to doing groceries, a treat that Hermione would find welcomed, if it was any other man, of course.

"Do you need something in particular?" he asked, and she shook her head. She'd die first, than ask something from him. He regarded her for a few seconds, before returning his attention to the cashier. He was an old, bearded man, and it seemed like they knew one another, because Dolohov started to chat with him. The old man was smiling broadly while he looked at Hermione and told something to Dolohov that made both men laugh. The girl suspected that it was nothing good and she crossed her arms, clearly irritated. To her horror, Dolohov put an arm around her and pulled her close to his side, still chatting with the counter clerk like it was something perfectly normal. Hermione made a move like she was going to wriggle from his grasp, but he whispered in her ear before she even had a chance to fulfill her intent:

"Don't make scenes, _krasavitsa_. Remember the village? They all think that you're my woman and you have to obey me as such."

After that he smiled at the older man, shook hands with him and led the girl out of the shop.

"I could carry something, if it's heavy," Hermione proposed, but Dolohov didn't even slow down as he was heading towards the car.

"A girl won't be carrying the bags for me, I'm a man."

Hermione said nothing and followed him like a puppy, noting in her head his another irritating flaw - his stupid pride.

The road back home was quite boring. The girl could see nothing else beside the trees and she was growing more and more tired with every minute. Her thoughts wandered towards her parents in Australia, her friends. How were they doing? Have Harry and Ron managed to find at least one Horcrux? Do they use the books and materials that she had prepared and placed in her bag? Or are they just going round in circles, completely hopeless and without a clue of what to do next?

The sky was getting darker and darker, as heavy clouds gathered above the road. Soon it would begin to rain and Hermione shivered slightly from cold.

"I've got to pee," the girl suddenly stated. Dolohov glanced at her.

"We'll be home in 10 minutes," he said.

"I can't wait 10 minutes. Stop the car, I'll go quickly behind the bush and return immediately."

Dolohov snorted.

"You take me for a fool, _de'vachka_? We're not going to stop until we get home."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. He was more clever than she thought, the sly bastard.

"All right," she said cheerfully. "I'll just pee right here."

And with those words, she started to unbutton her jeans. Dolohov shot her an angry look. With a swish of the tyres the car drove down on the roadside and stopped so suddenly that the girl felt her insides going up to her throat.

In a second she had a wand placed to her temple.

"Don't try anything funny, you little wench. You don't want to know my bad side," the man growled menacingly. Hermione sustained a shiver and kept her head high.

"I'll be back in a minute," she reminded coldly, before unfastening her belt and getting out of the car. She walked calmly to the nearby bush that could hide her, feeling the Death Eater's eyes on her back. Her heart was pounding heavily in her chest, her mind set on the task ahead. Run.

Slowly, as to not cause any suspicion, the girl crouched behind the bush. Than she quickly analysed her situation. The forest was thick and dark, the bush so big that she could sneak further between the trees without a problem. Careful not to move any twig that could betray her movements, the girl creeped away from the road. Soon her form was hidden completely in the dark and she could run freely. How much time did she have? A minute? Maybe a minute and a half. After that, Dolohov will grow suspicious and he'll come to check on her. He'll find out that she had run and he'll follow her.

The girl kept running through the woods, as fast as she could. Her legs ached from the effort, but she didn't pay any attention to the pain. Her mind was quickly processing all the facts: the Death Eater was a man, stronger, more agile, he had a wand and he knew those forests. In a second, the girl turned to the left, running more along the road than further into the darkness.

_'He'll think that I'm going as far from him and the road as I can. I'll have to do the opposite.'_

Her plan was to go as far as she could and then cross the road, and enter the forest on the other side. She could not apparate, but surely Dolohov wasn't a real hunter and he wouldn't be able to track her if he hadn't seen her.

She ran and ran for a long time, but heard no sign of pursuit. She nearly laughed in delight. The forest was vast and dark - how could one wizard find her there? She kept running though, deciding that she'll go as far as her legs will let her. Than, she'll find a secluded spot and rest for a while, before resuming her escape, this time more slowly and carefully.

After twenty minutes of running Hermione's body started to give up. She was never one for the sports and she had quickly exhausted herself during her rapid sprint.

_'A little longer, just a little longer,'_ she thought, panting heavily and clutching her side. Soon she was unable to run anymore, hell, she was unable to even walk. Her legs ached mercilessly, she was out of breath. It was then, when she heard it.

A loud howl echoed through the woods. Hermione nearly burst into tears of terror. The wolf.

It all was just like in her dream. The wolf was chasing her. Without thinking, she got up and started to run again. This time, though, she hadn't a chance to go far. After few minutes she tumbled and fell forward, her forehead hitting a thick branch which lied on the forest floor. Tears of pain welled in her eyes but the girl payed no attention. She was so scared of the animal and the man who chased her, that she didn't even notice the blood on her face from the injury. The forest was getting darker and darker and soon it started to rain, making the escape even more difficult than it was before.

Suddenly, Hermione slipped on the wet leaves and again fell to the ground. Before she had any chance of getting up, she heard something panting heavily.

"Please, no." she whimpered.

Dark, grey eyes watched her with interest, as if the animal found it very strange that she was lying there, drenched and exhausted. Hermione started to crawl away from the beast, but it followed her quickly, sniffing the air.

In a moment, the wolf approached her and came close to her head.

_'It's going to kill me,'_ the girl thought with despair. Only now she realized, that she had a face smeared in her own blood. The wolf surely could smell it and the girl was sure that it'll provoke the animal's attack.

Nothing of that sort had happened, though.

The wolf nuzzled her hair with its nose curiously. It didn't look like it was going to kill her. Hermione lied still, waiting for the animal to go away, but it didn't move. On the contrary; the wolf sat down and kept observing her. The girl lifted her head slowly and saw that the thick fur of her pursuer was soaked from rain.

"Go away," she said. "It's cold here, go away."

But the wolf didn't move.

They sat there for a few minutes, the wolf and the girl, observing each other. Hermione forgot about Dolohov completely, transfixed by the grey eyes of the beast. She was nearly freezing from cold, but she hadn't any strength to get up.

_'I'll die here,'_ she thought, strangely calm. _'But at least I have company.'_

As if reading her thoughts, the wolf stood up and approached her slowly. No longer afraid and feeling slightly dizzy, the girl reached out to him. It was then, when she heard a loud crack of Apparition. The wolf jerked and ran off quickly. Hermione had no time to call after it, because a pair of strong arms wrapped around her body. Some gruff voice swore a couple of times in Russian, another loud crack echoed through the woods and Hermione found herself being packed in the car.

Someone had shut the doors and soon the vehicle started to ride. The girl was shuddering from cold, but her head felt oddly warm. She had no idea what was happening with her. Soon, she was out of the car as someone was carrying her towards a house.

That was the last thing Hermione remembered from that day.

* * *

Next time she had woken up, she felt a terrible pain in her throat. She sneezed a couple of times, feeling dizzy and cold.

"Serves you right, you little wench."

Dolohov stood in the doorway, arms crossed, his face twisted in anger. Hermione glared at him but said nothing, firstly because she didn't want to provoke him, and secondly because her throat was so sore that she couldn't talk. Instead, she sneezed again loudly.

Babushka must have heard her, because she entered the room quickly, carrying a steaming bowl of broth.

"Eat it, while it's still hot", she said, helping the girl with sitting up. "Oh, my, you still have a fever! Toshka, did you buy the medicines?"

Dolohov nearly growled in response and took his leave, shooting Hermione dirty look before turning away.

The old lady sighed.

"Don't worry, child, he'll calm down soon. But what you had done was very stupid and reckless. Something might have happened to you." she said reproachingly. Hermione kept silent. It was her only chance to escape - now Dolohov will be more careful. And even if she'd manage to run, he'd find her quickly. There must be another way, she just had to be patient.

The cold she had caught was making her feel awful. Every bone was aching, every muscle was sore. Evening came and Hermione was very tired, but she couldn't sleep. The fever had disappeared, but the girl still coughed and sneezed like crazy. Dolohov's presence was making it even worse.

"Be glad that you've got sick, otherwise I'd Crucio you right there and now," he growled, rummaging through the drawers. The girl opened her mouth to talk back, but her throat only made a pathetic screeching noise. The man glanced at her contemptuously, before standing up and approaching her with a small jar in his hand.

Without a word, he started to lower shoulder straps of Hermione's nightgown, which caused the girl to wriggle desperately and make screeching noises of terror.

"Don't be stupid, I'm not going to rape you," the wizard said. "You're not looking very tempting right now."

She kept fighting him, though, so he drew his wand out and pressed it to her neck. She stared at him wide-eyed, tears of fear streaming down her face.

"Calm down," the Death Eater said menacingly. "You've already stepped on my toe, don't push my any further, _malyshka_."

She said nothing, but stopped moving, feeling the tip of the wand digging in her skin. Dolohov smirked and opened the jar. Inside was a salve, which smelled strongly of honey and eucalyptus. He dipped his fingers in it and then reached to the exposed skin of the girl. She cringed when he touched her, but relaxed as soon as his hand started to rub the salve on her chest. It made her lungs feel warm and the scent of the ointment made her breathing a lot easier. Dolohov was making slow moves and the girl was feeling much more relaxed and tired with every second. Her mind was screaming to her to fight, to escape from the Death Eater's grasp, but her body was too exhausted.

"That's right, _malyshka_," the man whispered. "I don't have to force myself on you. You'll come to me on your own free will, sooner or later."

Hermione would argue, if she wasn't so drowsy. In a second everything went black and she fell into a blissful sleep.


End file.
